


loveless shadows

by houseofhimbos



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Aromantic Asexual Muriel, Gender-neutral Reader, Other, Queer Platonic Partners (QPP), aromantic asexual reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:20:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27858978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/houseofhimbos/pseuds/houseofhimbos
Summary: There's not enough representation of queerplatonic partners and far less of Muriel, so I wanted to write something... softer. Sweeter. Something to soothe that ache in my soul, you know? Platonic love is just as valid.Written with my aro/ace friends in mind... you all are so incredibly loved (platonically) and appreciated.
Relationships: Apprentice/Muriel (The Arcana), Muriel (The Arcana)/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	1. between my apartment and you

Muriel had never thought he’d love someone. He hadn’t even thought he’d ever love himself, really. But this… terrible, lovely, wonderful person had barreled into his life at the speed of sound and hadn’t looked back. They’d shown him that it was okay to be cared for, to smile, to share kindness with others.

So, he was stuck wondering: did he love them? Was it normal to feel like there was nothing there romantically but being full of affection nonetheless? They were certainly pretty – he’d never seen someone with features such as theirs, and he felt like a hulking mess walking side by side with them. But, as hard as he’d tried to summon up romantic, even sexual feelings (the thought repulsed him when he’d tried the first time and hadn’t tried again since)... there was nothing. Only the same soft, gentle affection that’d kept growing since first meeting them a few months ago.

“Muriel? What’s on your mind?” 

“...I don’t think I love you.” Oh, that was a terrible way of putting it. The expression on their face sent him backpedaling immediately, stuttering out, “I mean. Erm. I don’t think I love you the way I’m supposed to.” They looked less offended, which was good. But… they didn’t look happy, not in the way that he was used to. Their expression was quiet, contemplative (beautiful, in the dappled light that the forest provided). Fiddling with their thumbs, they tilted their head up at him and hummed plaintively.

“How are you supposed to love me, then?” 

“I don’t know. I thought it was supposed to be… wanting to kiss you, I guess? Being in love with you? Or something more than that.” He shrugs, unsure of himself even now.

“I guess I don’t love you the way I’m supposed to either, then.” 

_What?_

“I’m… well, the best label for it is that I’m aromantic and asexual, Muri. I love you, but in the way that I want to laugh with you while running around in a meadow; the way that I want to lay under the stars and think, ‘wow, I’m so lucky to have him in my life’; the way that I want to spend my mornings and evenings with you in peaceful, mutual silence. I don’t want to kiss you in any other way than to show you how much I care, and –” They cut themselves off, blushing furiously out of embarrassment. 

“I want that too.” The answer was torn out of him immediately, reaching out to hold their hands like a man possessed.

“I want that, I want what you said. I want to feed my chickens with you. Take care of each other. Eat pumpkin bread together.” All simple things, yet they meant the world to Muriel. He’d never had a normal life before, growing up on the streets (becoming a gladiator; running, running, _running_ ). He wanted, no, _craved_ those simple, everyday things for so long and they were giving it to him freely. (How amazing it was, to be loved like this.)

“I guess I’m… what did you say? Aromantic. Asexual. I’m those things too. I want this life with you… If you’ll let me have it.”

Their eyes tear up, and for a second, he’s not sure what he’s supposed to do. Slowly, he crouches down and pulls them into a hug, resting his chin on their shoulder as he pats their back. This only makes them cry harder, and he resigns himself to just… letting them lean against him as they work it out of their system. (Not like he minded at all. They’d supported them through so much, and panicking, while his normal route of action, was _not_ going to be helpful here.)

“Gods, I was _so worried_ that you’d say that you wouldn’t be interested in me because I couldn’t love you romantically,” they finally choke out, words muffled by the way they’d buried their face into his shoulder.

“Why?” It’s a genuine question. Muriel would be interested in them no matter the circumstances, but he’d been more worried that he wouldn’t be able to give _them_ the affection they deserved.

“I guess it’s because I’ve had so little luck finding somebody like you, Muri. Nobody wants me when I say that I can’t feel a certain way, or thinks they can ‘fix me’. I don’t need fixing, you don’t need fixing… we both just needed to find someone like ourselves. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve felt like I’m broken, or...” Trailing off, their voice hitches slightly in remembrance of past pain. There are so many things that Muriel wants to tell them, _you’re not broken; you’re human and here and how could anyone turn you away because you’re just being you; you’re perfect to me, just the way you are_.

Instead, he says, “...Are you going to start crying again?” A laugh, (something he wants to hear every day from now on) as they wipe the tears from their eyes and push him away just enough so they can kiss his cheek affectionately. 

“No, I don’t think I will. Come on, I bet Inanna misses us at the cabin.”

Muriel, in that moment, with this bright and cheerful person he’s allowed to call _his_ now, thinks that things will be okay. (They will be.)


	2. loveless shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short aside where MC and Muriel discuss what exactly their relationship is.

“Do you ever think that you might be in love with me? You know, the way people are ‘supposed’ to?” They say ‘supposed’ like it’s a curse – there were so many ways of loving, and the general public only subscribed to one train of thought. And while Vesuvia was generally tolerant of most things (see: Count Lucio’s reign, self-declared pansexual disaster)... well, the rest of the world tended to turn the other way or force an ideal onto people like them. 

“I’ve thought about it a couple times,” he admits, lying next to them in the soft glow of the fireplace. There’s a fond, sleepy gravel in his voice as he speaks, all tender words and crinkled eyes. “I tried so hard, before you told me about… you know. Now that we’re together like this, I’ve had moments. Moments where I thought, ‘Is this a different love?’ I’ve never been allowed this, after all. I don’t know what it’s supposed to be like. Never had an opportunity to experience it.” 

They cup his face in their hands, gently placing a kiss to his forehead. 

“Mmm… At the end of the day, I know that I have you. You have me. We’re here to support one another,” Muriel says, dragging them in to snuggle into his chest, “and that’s what matters. I couldn’t be happier with the relationship we do have. I hope you’re okay with it too.” 

There’s a moment’s pause as they process his words. “Muriel…”

“Too much?” 

“Never. That was so many words, by the way! I’m proud of you.”

“...I’m never speaking again.”

“Wait, no-!”


End file.
